Arundel Granville and the Cursed Crown
by Tablax Clipper
Summary: Readers may want to first read the Grants Artifacts. Arundel Granville is unwittingly forced to help Mad Eye Moody break the curse of a killer crown before the vigilante group The Black Spot kill all her friends.
1. Chapter 1

**1- The Lunchbox of Manevolance**

Arthur Weasley stumbled backed with his wand in front of him. His other arm thrust behind to protect his wife who was frantically trying to get around him to attack. "Arthur get out of my way this instant!" She screeched.

"Molly, be quiet!" Arthur hissed at her, "Have some sense!"

Arundel ran her top lip through her teeth and took a step forward. Arthur's wand shot red sparks.

"I mean it when I say it, don't come any closer. I don't care what you have to say for yourself Arundel. I don't want you anywhere near my family."

"But-"

"You heard my husband," Molly screeched at her. "We don't want your kind anywhere near our house."

"My kind-" Arundel howled. "Oh, come on Molly I'm-"

"No." Molly cut across her, jumped out from behind her husband and stormed up to Arundel, pulling her own wand from her pinafore as she went. "You are worse than Mundungus Fletcher, worse than-" she threw her hand up in despair. "When you turn up we all suffer Arun and I have Ginny to think about, she's only little, and Fred and George are a handful. Don't you realise how lucky they are to have parents? No!"

"I'm not asking you to do-"

Molly's wand shot up and pointed between Arundell's eyes. "I'm giving you to the count of three to apparate away from our front door Arun or by Merlin's Beard I will hex you until you forget your own name."

Exasperated, Arundel threw her hands up and took a few steps back. "I didn't come here to threaten you, I came to ask for Arthurs help."

"One-"

"I need to find out where-"

"Two-" Molly's eyes narrowed, a calm came over her face that betrayed her resolve. Arundel knew that look well enough to know that on three the flame-haired Molly Weasley wouldn't hesitate to attack. With a sigh Arundel apparated away.

For five years Arundel had practised disapperating without the customary popping noise that betrayed the magic happening and though she had managed to get it to a faint 'pah' the canny wizard would still be able to use it to attack her. Wind wiped her hair, seagulls screeched and waves crashed below her and made a hollow echo in the caves deep under her feet, so much so that it sounded like a dragon snoring. From her pocket she took out a watch, which told her to stay put and wait, and not one to temp fait she did as she was told.

"Ah."

Arun looked round, Arthur stood in his shabby patched tweed overcoat, his hair blowing back from his scalp and a deep frown across his eyes.

"Ah," he said again. "I thought-" He cleared his throat. "I don't know what to make of you Arun," he told her with a hard set jaw, and she realised he was clutching his wand as he spoke, still uncertain about speaking to her. "The Ministry say you were working for them in the war but the Death Eaters seemed pretty certain you were their ilk, and I've read your mothers books on blood and frankly they sicken me."

"Rest assured, they sicken me too," she told him. "I'm glad you knew to come here."

"Why wouldn't I?" Arthur spat. "Molly won't hold court with anybody who has sympathies with the Dark Lord but I-" his voice faltered. "I hope, hope-" he repeated, "-that the Ministry are right about you and you were simply a greedy little arms dealer trying to remain neutral."

"I got you that clock didn't I?"

"Yes, for all the good it did us. That's the only reason I'm here Arun, we knew Molly's brothers were dead because of it and-" he faltered and breathed heavily through his nose. "But don't ever come to our house again. I profoundly dislike you, and Molly is right, you are dangerous and you need to stay away from us."

Arun's mouth twitched into a humourless smile, as much as she could pretend not to be upset by words like that they stung, and she quite liked the Weasleys. They were so unlike anybody else she knew that she found them fascinating. The Malfoy's despised them, they symbolised everything a wizard might become if they lost their pride and status and so they feared them too. But Arundel didn't see them like that, she saw a family who respected and loved each other without anything conditional or conceited, and that was just so rare.

"I heard that the worst of the cursed muggle artefacts are stored in Azkaban," she said.

Arthur looked at his brown shoes, she could see him grinding his teeth. "Do you know how I knew to look for you here?"

Arun opened her mouth to say yes- but Arthur started to speak again.

"I raided this cave with the Ministry during the first war following reports of a Muggle man floating out over the north sea like a balloon. It turns out he was abseiling and he found your hoard and got his hands on what he thought was a pirate doubloon. We took eight cursed items out, poor Perkins nearly had a heart attack when he was bitten by a silver kettle. We only knew it belonged to you because three of the items had been requested by the Ministry and you had been charged with tracking them down." He studied her as if to challenge her. "I know you were fined for it, I did the paperwork. so I thought you would come here, knowing that I know."

"Very clever Arthur," Arun muttered, deciding that he must want recognition for being right.

"Why, in the name of Merlin, would I ever help you bring more cursed objects into the hands of careless stupid wizards? My department is understaffed as it is, Arundel, I'm not about to go and create more work for myself."

"How much then?" Arun asked him. "I'll pay in Galleons if you want. Enough for a holiday for all your children, enough for their-"

"Don't insult me!" Arthur spat.

"I didn't intend to," Arun grumbled and realised Arthur still gripped onto his wand.

"You want to know if there are cursed items in Azkaban, yes, there are, but if you ask me how to get to them I'll bid you a good day."

"No you have it wrong!" Arundel told him seeing that he was about to go. "I need to put something there Arthur, something terrible."

Arthuer Weasley paused, his eyes narrowed. "What?" he asked.

"It's called the Lunch Box of Malevolence."

Arthur stood a little taller, he thought she was joking.

"It's a muggle child's lunchbox and the child's father was a bit cruel and he bewitched it but the curse-" she paused, "It's bad Arthur. As soon as the box is opened anybody in a radius able to smell the inside of it- well-" She paused and shuddered for effect. "Everything they touch, decays."

"You have the box?"

She shook her head, "No, but I can tell you where it is and you can do the raid."

Something didn't sit well with Arthur, he was more sensible than he looked and he shook his head and waggled a finger, "No," he laughed, "There's more to this, there is always more with you."

Arundel frowned, "Honestly, Arthur, this time there isn't."

"Oh, don't treat me like a fluberworm Arun. You don't do anything unless there's something in it for you so out with it. If you want my help, give me the decency of the truth."

After a calculated pause, Aren said, "One of my competitors stole the contract from me." She sighed and studied her feet. "Happy now? I'm doing this to get back at somebody."

Arthur started to laugh, he tilted his chin up and shook his head, "You really are a piece of work," he sighed. "Ok, give me the location of the lunchbox and then we are done. I never want to see you again. Do you understand Arun?"

When Arun nodded agreement she only felt ashamed. Despite what her friends said about the Weasleys, she liked them but Arthur was as good as his word and as soon as he had the address he apparated home without a word more to her. For a moment she was alone on the cliff face, studying the empty spot left behind and then she too carried on her journey, first apparating to the local town, stealing muggle food from the local supermarket, and then walking to a dark spot where she could apparate home.

Home, after her trip to Albania, was with Fenrir Greyback in a terraced house backing onto woods in Bristol. A batch of wolfsbane constantly brewed on the hob downstairs, and a stream of harried-looking, gaunt eyed werewolves came over to buy it from him. Fenrir had made so much money that he had brought himself a new coat, had his hair trimmed and for the want of a better word, was living like a pimp.

"Thought you were gone for good," he growled as she stepped through his front door and looked at the mess of larger cans littering the floor. Wolfsbane wasn't the only thing Fenrir had been dealing, he made a good trade in mind-altering potions too. "Did you get ingredients?"

"No," she sighed. "I told you, I had other business."

Fenrir turned away from her, "If you don't pull your weight the doors over there."

"And here I was thinking you were letting me stay to say thank you for my help in Albania," Arun sighed and smiled at him. "I'll go to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Happy?"

"Never," the werewolf snarled and pulled open the fridge. "Muggles are strange," he muttered as he pulled out a yellow can and flicked the tab at the top. "This is called a Fridge, apparently and it runs on a thing called elek-tris-aty." he pulled a face and tipped alcohol into his mouth.

"Electricity," Arun confirmed. "You should turn that off. You don't want muggles turning up to ask why you haven't paid any bills."

"Some of the punters try and pay me in muggle money," he told her with a nod of his head over to a cabinet where he stocked the drugs he was peddling. "I've nearly enough to move on."

"You have to be out of here before the full moon anyway," she reminded him. "Another Muggle death and the Ministry will start to cull you."

Fenrir spat on the floor and turned away from her, "I'd happily bite the Minister for Magic," he muttered as he walked away. Arun took the stairs up to her room two at a time, she waved her hand across the lock and heard it click open and then she removed the protections she had placed on it to stop people going in. When she was sure she wouldn't get caught in her own traps she stepped in through the opening and looked around. It was the same mess it had been when she left. Books and clothes left on the floor, the bed unmade and propped on the mantelpiece, facing the wall, a framed painting of Severus Snape. The portrait was bewitched, it acted as a portal through which they could converse. Hanging to the right of the dresser was a full-length mirror, half hung with a scarf so Arundel didn't have to look at herself, but she caught her reflection, all the same, she sneered at her pale skin and long black hair. still frowning she turned away and collapsed onto her bed. After a moment's relaxing, she drifted into an uneasy sleep and woke up the next day to voices from the room next door.

"She's not one of us, get rid of her," A woman's voice was pressing.

"I can't brew wolfsbane," Fenrir was protesting. "I can't afford the ingredients."

"Call yourself a werewolf-"

"Morgana -"

Arun pouted and sat up in bed. Morgana went everywhere with Fenrir and had never much liked Arun.

"No- Fen- have some pride and tell her to go."

"I ain't sleeping with her any more if that's what-"

"Fen!" Morgana snarled. "I know, and I don't care. I'd rather be in the woods than in a muggle house brewing a potion that makes us tame."

"Morgana-"

"Denying our nature as predators," Morgana continued, growling every word. "Tell her to go away."

"She helped us in Albania," Fenrir snapped at her. "She's got gold too. I'd be silly to send her on."

"Tame little pet-" Morgana sneered and Arun heard enough. She opened her backpack raised both her hands, turned the palms out and her effects started to shoot from the sides and the draws and land inside her backpack. If there was one thing she was good at it was leaving before she had outstayed her welcome, she told herself she had been wasting time with Fenrir anyway, crashing out at his house because it was easier than going anywhere else. She hadn't bothered to hide the noise packing was making and Fenrir's head poked around the door.

"You hear us?" he asked.

"Yes," she told him. "I don't mind leaving, you said you were moving on anyway."

Fenrir scratched the side of his head and came into the room, he was wearing a wife-beater and a faded green tattoo depicted a man in the middle of a painful transformation. "You did a good thing for us in Albania," he said. "Morgana can be a bit of a cun-"

"You don't have to justify it, I get it. It's time I moved on anyway Fen, I don't settle well you know that."

"Where will you go?"

Arun honestly had no idea, she smiled and shrugged, "I've got some places I can crash," she told him. "Got some things to do."

"I suppose we're even though."

Arun nodded and hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders, "I suppose," she told him. "Give Morgana my respects won't you."

As soon as she left the house an owl arrived for her, it looked exhausted and she pulled the message from its leg and left it to recuperate on the pavement next to the werewolf's house.

_Arundel, _

_My informants tell me that you have recently arrived back in England, I would dearly like to speak to you about your time away. _

_I would also like to extend you an apology, Severus informs me I was a little out of line when we last spoke._

_Albus._

Arun looked at the paper for the longest time, wondering if it were a joke and then she appeared to the Leaky Caldron and decided to ignore him. But, even as she paid for a room overlooking Diagon Alley and made small talk with Tom, the barman, Albus Dumbledore's letter played on her mind. She couldn't stand that meddlesome wizard, but he had his uses and it appeared that he felt the same about her. Why did he want to know about her time away? Why was he interested in the prison breakout or the movements of werewolves? And a little out of line? She felt her lip curl as she pulled out more and more from her backpack, which had been magically modified. He'd said he would happily see her bloodline wiped from the world, and he had meant it too. She wasn't really offended at the idea of him wanting to kill her or her mother, but her sister was goodness through and through and her father was just a doddery old scholar. To her, it was a cruel thing to say because of one very distant relation on her mother's side who turned out to be a little bit of a megalomaniac. No, she would ignore him, she would go shopping and list her services with the Gringotts Goblins again as a curse breaker and that would be that for a little while. Maybe. But she would be damned if she answered a summons from Albus Dumbledore.


	2. Chapter 2

**2 Thea Gaunt and the Inner Workings of the Blood.**

Built by Daisy Dodderidge in the 1500's the Leaky Caldron had not been redecorated since Arun was sure. Though the matrices may have been replaced on the four-poster beds, and the furniture switched when broken, it was still positively Tudor. When the Northern line passed underground the floor shook and she could hear the pedestrians and the busses on the Charing Cross side of the pub. Her window was shuttered, and the glass was warped and coated in soot, but she could just about make out the Muggles passing with their shopping bags.

Watching them brought a kind of comfort, they were so busy, blissfully unaware that two years ago a war had raged in the wizarding world that could have seen them enslaved. Arun wasn't sure that war was over; Wizards had long memories and nobody really knew what side people were on, even the Death Eaters didn't really know who the Death Eaters were.

People acted like the fact that Voldemort had fallen meant the war was over, but the war was in people's hearts and minds.

The most vocal now lived in fear of being exposed, but the ordinary witch and wizard, who sat quietly and kept their opinions to themselves still held on to their opinions and the trade in blood magic and dark artefacts just proved how many there were who thought pureblood held some kind of status. Just a quick study of the people in power in the ministry blurred the lines. Cornelius Fudge put great stock in blood purity, hated anything that was a part monster or part muggle, whilst Voldemort himself was a mudblood who looked to those crossbreeds as his allies, and yet his followers were some of the most bigoted idealists she had ever met. As far as she was concerned, there was power and there was hypocrisy on both sides and so she didn't care at all which side she worked for as long as they didn't get in her way.

The blood supremacists hated the Leaky Cauldron, which served as a portal between the Muggle world and the magical, but Arundel liked it. She enjoyed hiding amongst the Muggles, picking up their customs, their coinage and their gossip. Their clothes were more comfortable, their music more palatable and flicking on an electric light switch was easier than magic. She thought she must have been one of the few people who understood why Arthur Weasley had such an affinity for them.

Not that she would ever admit it to her friends, if they thought for a second she enjoyed having to be able to pass as one of them they would be most displeased. The last time she visited Narcissa Malfoy her best friend had lamented that she was dressed in a muggle jumper and leggings. Today these were her choice of clothes, with thick leg warmers and fingerless black gloves. The morning air was cutting and her fire had not yet warmed the room, all she wanted was to be comfortable.

Something banged on the door, Arun pulled it open and an enchanted broom whizzed in to sweep, followed by yet another owl. A copy of the letter from Dumbledore landed at her feet, and the fact the owl knew where to find her told her that somebody had been keeping him updated. Against her better judgement, she turned the parchment over and wrote, "_I await you at your convenience, then," _and sent the owl away half expecting the fire to blaze green and the Headmaster of Hogwarts to step through the flames and annoy her with half baked riddles and threats concealed with pleasantries. When the fire stayed lit and did nothing impressive, she tidied her hair in the mirror, which informed her, "You'd do better with a bit of lipstick love-" and went down to the bar. A copy of the Daily Prophet left out on the bar showed the Albanian Minister of Magic scratching his head next to a huge hole in the wall of the high-security prison, "'_I guess the walls were weak, this prison is old and it's not like we are made of the money to pay for the expertise keep the enchantments updated. These things are complicated._' _The Albanian Minister was reported to have said._ "_Not everybody has the luxury of Azkaban's security you know. Rest assured we are tracking down those who escaped, but the forest will kill them before they reach civilisation. This forest is vast and full of dangerous magical creatures.' the Minister of Magic went on to remind the Prophet's reporter that the prisoners don't have their wands and as such are practically helpless amongst the trees."_

Arundel pouted and put the paper down.

"Bad business that," Tom the barman wheezed through toothless gums. "Apparently that prison near Curraj was for dangerous magical criminals and the whole wall crumbled, they just walked out and no bugger noticed for two whole days." Tom wheezed and rolled his eyes.

"That's the problem when you have a prison in the middle of a forest Tom," Arun told him with a smile.

"It says further down in the article that the Albanian Minister of Magic has asked our ministry for help."

Arun drummed her fingers on top of the article and scanned it again to make sure there was nothing alluding to her or any suspicion on her part in breaking that wall down. The Minister might want to make it sound like the wall just crumbled but it took her hours to break through with Fenrir and two others he trusted 'beyond a shadow of a doubt' but she still worried.

"So soon after You-Know-Who too," Tom lamented. "If I were that Albanian Minister I'd have the best security, he'll lose his office over this. Those prisoners were all sympathisers, even if they weren't his inner circle so to speak. "

"Maybe," Arun tried not to commit to a conversation with the barman, he meant well but she had to watch what she said, he moved on pretty quickly to discussing the weather and Arun gave short answers as she planned what to do with her day. She hadn't asked Fenrir what he intended to do with the prisoners, she hadn't stuck around for long after she broke them out and as far as she was concerned, the less she knew the better. He could swell his numbers with violent wizards if he so wished, bite them and infect them and make them owe him as he dealt them wolfsbane to keep them docile once a month. If only there was a potion for her mood swings, she thought to herself as she scanned the paper.

"So what's your plan?" Tom asked.

"Hm?" her eyes flicked up to him, but her mind was elsewhere.

"Your plan, you've paid for two weeks, people don't usually stay that long."

"I'm, well, I'm on a kind of vacation."

"I get ya," Tom laughed. "Been out of work a few times me' self."

"It's been a strange year," She agreed. "Last September I started working at Hogwarts, but it was only a temporary position, and then I went back to see my sister for a bit," she shrugged marvelling at how mundane she could make her life sound. She pictured telling Tom how her sister had been betrayed by her boss and taken prisoner by American dark wizards, how she had to save her life by making a trade only to then double-cross the Americans and destroy the artefacts, she supposed he wouldn't believe her.

It was the middle of March and it was deathly cold, colder than Albania had been. She'd gone from Egypt to Europe and then she'd gone 'dark' laying low, making sure she wasn't connected to the prison break. Severus' picture had sat inside a sock, a clear message to him that he needed to keep away, the last time they spoke he had been most displeased and told her to re-evaluate her priorities, what-ever that meant. She had considered going back to the safehouse on Parliament Hill in Hampstead but the idea of being alone in a rambling house was too much for her. She also considered contacting the Malfoy's but the questions and confusion over her absence would be awkward and since she had rescued her sister from the Americans all Amber wanted to do was get her job back on track and start her studies of ancient magic again. They used to be able to speak with a bewitched portrait that also acted as a passageway but that had been destroyed in the final battle to end the Grants Artifacts and now Arundel had to apparate to magical Thebes every time she wanted to have a chat.

"I think I'll go shopping today," she told Tom. "March is such a boring time of the year. It's cold, there's nothing to celebrate, everything's dead, it's just a working month isn't it."

Tom laughed, "The Brewers Fayre is on today," he told her. "You any good with potions?"

"I'm alright."

"Well, if you want something to do, I need an Everwarm Potion brewed up for the bedpans. I'll pay you to cover the costs and I'll give you the next few days meals on the house if you're up for it."

She nodded, glad to at least have something to do and Tom smiled at her, "I don't care what they say about you Granville, you're alright."

The smile fixed on her face.

"I mean, if Dumbledore employed you then he must not believe the rumours-"

"Tom," Aruns voice had a warning to it that was not there moments before. "I make no secret of the fact I dealt weapons and artefacts to both sides. I am impartial, I had- have- friends amongst both."

Tom coloured slightly, "Glad it's all over now," he muttered as he busied himself with cleaning. "Glad it's over."

She stood up and gave him a smile she hoped would show him no hard feelings, and she went back up to her room to put on warmer clothes. She chose a fur-lined cloak and a long thick dark green dress, then she pulled her dark hair over her shoulder and platted it, and jammed a furry hat on top of her head to keep her ears warm.

"That's better love-" the mirror told her.

The Brewers Fayre happened every Sunday morning, sellers stocked potions, alongside ingredients, books, experimental brews, cauldrons, animals. But alongside the brews were magical food stalls (squeaky cheese that really did squeak) and stalls selling jewellery, clothing, artwork and books. A pig roast sent billows of fatty smoke to hover around the stalls and her breath steamed in the air as she browsed. She overheard a witch asking if the "Bulbous boil vanishing cream would work on her dog," and heard a small man complaining that the Pepper Pick-me-up experimental brew he had bought the week before had caused him to fart and set fire to his sofa. The witch he spoke to was eagerly taking notes. "Too much salamander perhaps," she mused. She didn't intend to buy anything until she made her way back up towards the Cauldron, there was too much to see, but she realised with some annoyance that not all of the ingredients she would need were on the stalls around her. There seemed to be a shortage of horned toad venom and skin as well as lacewing flies.

"Puff Adder venom," A cold voice sneered. "I know it's dangerous, that's why I need it."

Arun felt a shudder down her spine and she glanced sideways. Snape had his back to her, his cloak was drawn up tight around his shoulders as he argued with the seller. Arun quickened her step and disappeared down a side street into Knockturn Alley, where she made a quick path towards Cobb and Webb's a shop that sold items and books related to dark magic. Cobb looked up from the counter and then looked up again with a surprised smile. "Granville!" he cried. "Merlin's Beard it's been a while." He pulled up the counter and came out with his arm outstretched to shake her hand. "Chilly out," he observed and pointed towards the back of the shop. "Come and warm up by the fire, I'll get a brew on, come in, come in," he placed a hand on the small of her back and practically pushed her into the shop. Cobb's crooked yellow teeth and crooked yellow eyes took her in as she relaxed into one of the large armchairs next to a fat pot-bellied stove which cracked merrily, it's door ajar to let the heat out into the room.

"How are you, Cobb?" Arun enquired, hoping she could stretch the conversation out enough that Snape would conclude his business in the market and go away.

"Oh, good enough in these trying times. Business is booming which is surprising really," his eyes travelled down to a book bound in brown paper. Arun reached to the coffee table and picked it up. _The inner workings of Blood- Thea Gaunt. _"She's published another one?"

"Your mother's latest book is perhaps her most controversial, she has compounded her ideas around Squibs as the product of inbreeding, and even calls for the forced introduction of new magical bloodlines to keep the magic strong. She also argues the properties of shared memory and experience passed down through the blood and gives examples as to some of the more arcane old magics that use this blood bond- including some interesting ideas for how to manipulate it."

"It's banned of course?" Arun asked.

"Not even aloud to be published, owning a copy is punishable by a short spell in Azkaban so-" Cobb shrugged, "I am one of three stockists, it's one of my best sellers."

"Who's buying?"

"Cornelius Fudge for one," Cobb laughed, "Why do you think I have it so brazen on display?"

Thea Granville, published under her maiden name Gaunt, was one of Voldemort's chief supporters. Nobody could link her easily to the Dark Lord other than his enjoyment of her writing, which made her unpopular but was not enough to condemn her. She was an intelligent, proud, cruel woman who saw people as little better than dog breeds to be studied. Arundel had often wondered what her father had seen in her when he married her. Cedric Granville was a moderate, one of the sacred twenty-eight, who lived and worked abroad studying old wild magic. He didn't care for anything other than his studies and when Uncle Tom came to visit Arundel's mother as a child he would politely stay out of the way and keep on working. Very good at turning a blind eye, her father.

"She hadn't told me she was publishing again," Arun said as she thumbed through the pages, to be quite honest she hadn't spoken to her mother in a very long time. "How much are you selling them for?"

"Fifty Gallions."

Arundel blanched, "Fifty!" she spluttered, then considered that for a price as steep as that she wouldn't have to worry about the words on the page becoming popular culture. She put the book down and shook her head, "Merlin's beard that's not cheap."

"Price reflects the prestige," Cobb laughed. "You've been back for a while now, haven't you?"

"Here and back again," Arun told him with a smile, figuring Borgen and Burke had been gossiping. "I'm between jobs."

"I heard you were working at Hogwarts?"

"In a way, I was looking for an artefact there, Dumbledore was foolish enough to offer me a job but he saw the error of his ways pretty quickly." She laughed, Cobb laughed wit her but his eyes didn't smile and she found out why in his next question.

"Is it true, what they say about Snape being a spy for Dumbledore?"

"As true as Lucius being under the imperius curse," Arun said pointedly.

Cobb laughed, her answer was a non-answer but it put his mind at rest. "Well," he said, "We're all doing things we regret to assimilate," he shrugged. "I was never a Death Eater but-" he shrugged again and trailed off. "Business is good these days. A lot of people relieved that they don't have to put their money where their mouth is- so to speak."

Arun nodded and reached for her tea, the milk was turning sour. "I'm thinking I might start curse breaking for Gringotts again."

"Ah," Cobb brightened up, "And selling on the side?"

"Of course," she told him. "Not that I ever stopped, I've been hearing rumours that the most desirable cursed objects are stored in Azkaban."

Cobb nodded and sat forward like a conspirator, "That's right, horrible things they say."

"If only we knew where it was."

"Old Gordon Harris in the White Wyvern says that it's in the middle of the North Sea, an island off the coast of Scotland, right up the top."

"He'd know?" Arun laughed.

"Doubt it, he's addled with the drink that one, half his stories are made up and half are adapted from the books he read as a child." Cobb's smile fell slightly, "You wouldn't really go there would you, Arun?"

"No," she laughed. "With my history, I'd be better off blasting myself with the killing curse and be done with it."

She called in at Borgin and Burkes on the way back to the market, sold them some items she had picked up for them in Albania and various other locations and left with her pockets full of galleons. They told her that one of their customers had been raided by the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office and had her biting teakettle confiscated, lamented for a long while about the Ministry ruining the 'sport of muggle baiting' for good and gave her a list of a few items that they were trying to procure for their customers. When she could put it off no longer, she decided to brave the market once more.

The air was so cold she could feel the skin across her cheeks pull tight. She watched her breath wind up into the air around her and shuddered as she moved from stall to stall purchasing the ingredients for the Everwarm Potion. She kept an eye out for Snape but when she saw no sign of him for a long while she decided he must have gone and she relaxed as she shopped. Eventually, all that was left was the lacewing flies and the toad skin so she went to the apothecary and pushed the door directly onto Snape who stumbled forward and turned outraged. "Watch what you are doing you stup-" he paused, his lip turned into a sneer and for a moment he was lost for words. "You're back." he managed after a good long while.

Arun sniffed and looked past him to the jars around the wall, "Yes," she muttered. "I'm in a bit of a rush."

Snape appeared to be grinding his teeth. Arun looked past him to the apothecary who gave her a weak smile, clearly, he had been having a difficult time of it with Snape and he wasn't expecting much better from her. "Lacewing flies and toad skin," she told him.

"Weight?"

"-you promised me you-"

"-five grams of lacewing flies- a medium bag of-"

"Arun-"

"-that's too small, one size up- thankyou."

Snape grabbed her wrist and yanked her round to face him, his black eyes bore down on her like they were daggers. "All I have ever tried to do is help," he hissed.

The Apothecary pretended not to listen, Arun looked at him then back to Snape, who let her arm go and took a step back.

"You have my order," Snape spat, and like a bat he turned and swept from the door.

"Sorry," Arun rolled her eyes and paid for the goods then she raised her hand and said "_Obliviate"_. The memory wipe charm didn't need to be powerful, only enough to stop the man gossiping and when she was sure her work was subtle enough she left with her goods and made her way back.

Snape was waiting for her, the cold air had cooled his temper and he fell into step with her as they picked their way through the crowded streets. He glanced into her basket, "Everwarm or an engorgio potion variation?" he asked.

"Everwarm, for the barman at the Cauldron. He doesn't have time to make it himself."

"How-" Snape paused, "kind," he settled for as if the word was alien. "I thought I saw you earlier but I told myself that if you had come back to England you would have made it known, if not to me to Narcissa."

Arun said nothing.

"I told you to wait for our help, I had Cissy and Lucius ready to support you we could have gone together to get your sister back from the Americans but instead you went alone-"

"I didn't want my friends getting hurt."

"Then I read all kinds of odd stories in the international section of the Prophet. A werewolf compound is attacked and the wolfsbane stolen, a duel in a muggle restaurant, a gathering of wizards near a temple in Thebes. Then an explosion in America that decimated a house and killed three people, and finally, a prison break in Albania."

"I really have no-"

"Don't take me for a fool Arun-" Snape sneered. "Don't insult me."

She turned to face him, "I used people to help me that I don't care about and there is always going to be collateral in that."

"Who?" Snape drew himself up to an impressive height and looked down his nose at her. "Who helped?"

"Fenrir."

If Snape had looked angry before he looked positively livid now. "I- see," he managed to hiss. "Are you still fuc-"

"No," Arun shouted, her eyes flashing.

"Did he come to Hogwarts for you?" Snape asked, taking a step back and studying her as if he had just realised something terrible.

She breathed heavily through her nose and tried to fight the frustration in her voice. "No."

"So he came to attack the children, as Dumbledore feared, and he met you instead and you turned his purpose elsewhere. God, you really are a piece of work Arundel. How much more have you got going on that I don't know about? How many more lies?"

She realised that was the second time in the last week somebody had called her a 'piece of work' and she wasn't too happy about it. "We build our lives on lies you stupid bat," Arun snapped at him. "I've told so many I don't know what's the truth any more."

They were outside the Cauldron now, people were turning to watch them as they argued but were not staying long enough to listen. When Arun went in, Snape followed, clearly not done yet, but he was good enough to stay quiet until they got up to her room where he strode to the fire and with a quick wave of got it lit. Arun deposited the shopping on the floor and crossed to the bed, where she sat cross-legged watching him with a frown.

"Where's your trunk?"

"Destroyed."

"The Grants Artefacts?"

"Also destroyed."

"Your sister?"

"Safe back in Magical Thebes trying to rebuild her life's work. As you can see her portrait and our means of communication was also destroyed."

Snape scratched the back of his neck with his wand. "What happened in Albania?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

Severus locked eyes with her, she let him see images of her and her sister eating ice cream outside a temple in Luxor as if to say, 'This is what I have been doing.' Snape's shoulders sagged.

"Dumbledore says that there are rumours that the Dark Lord may be in Albania."

So that's why the old dingbat wanted to speak to her, he'd finally heard the rumours.

"If you were in Albania-" Snape stopped, his eyebrows furrowed again. "You were there."

"If I was- what?" Arun mocked him.

"Tell Dumbledore. Tell him that there is nothing to the rumour, that plenty of dark things live in those forests. Tell him."

"What are you so frightened of Severus?" Arun's voice changed, it was mild, sympathetic. She wasn't blind to the role he played in the war, spying for both sides. It didn't matter now, and hopefully, it would not matter again. Perhaps that was what he was frightened of. That rumours may cause wizards to seek out things better left alone.

"There's nothing there," Severus told her as if he were telling himself. "Nothing. Even if there were something it would still be nothing but a dream as cruel as the Grants Artifacts bringing back a puppet."

"I can't tell him what I don't know."

He nodded, relieved. "Then why were you in Albania?"

"I wasn't," she said again, to which he raised an unamused eyebrow and carried on accusing her.

"You left me. Again. Without explanation or reason to fight a war of your own creation with a werewolf as your sidekick." Snape shook his head and sat in a chair, "How long have you been back Arun? Weeks? Months? How long are you going to hide my picture against a wall so I can't speak to you." he jammed his thumb over to the dresser where his portrait was face down.

"It's face-down-" she started.

"Silence-" He hissed as if speaking to one of his children. "You will be silent when I speak to you by god Arun! This is not funny."

She was laughing, which didn't help because it made Snape feel a fool and he jumped up from his chair like he'd been stung and he grabbed her and pulled her to her feet until their faces were inches apart.

"I need to know," he hissed. "Do you have any feelings for me at all?"

"Less and less when you do things like this _Tobias._" she hissed his father's name to hurt him, all humour gone. He reacted like he'd been stung, dropped her arm and backed away. "I'm not your mother and you can't make me love you by threatening me. Learn that and perhaps we will have a chance."

"I- I'm sorry," he whispered.

"So am I," she told him. "Because I will not put you, or the Malfoys in harm's way without being confident I can get you out of it again and so yes, Sev, when things get dangerous I will leave you behind."

"But why not tell me you were back-"

"I've been avoiding the argument," she told him. "You do take things personally, Sev."

"I don't without good reason," he snapped, and to that Arun had very little to say. "Am I to understand that your silence suggests you feel we are in danger?" he sneered. "Are you keeping us safe as you brew Everwarm potions for the Barman?"

Slowly she shook her head.

Snape's lip curled. "I thought as much." He unbuttoned his cloak and let it fall to the floor and then he turned and sank in a chair by the fire again, lapsing into a surly silence. Arun joined him, looking at him slide long, he really was angry with her, more than she expected.

"I'm here now," she told him. "I have no idea what I'm going to do tomorrow, let alone in the next few months. Dumbledore wants to speak to me, the Goblins might give me a job curse breaking for them-" She trailed off with a shrug. "I just wanted to be left alone for a while."

The effect her words had on Severus was annoyingly predictable. He stood up and with a wave of his wand his cloak jumped into his arms.

"Then I will go, you know where to find me."

He spun on his heel and started to walk out of the room, she watched him go without comment.

Moments later, when she had just picked up a copy of the newspaper to read and opened it to the potions quiz, the door opened again, "You came-" she paused. It was not Severus Snape in the doorway but Dumbledore and next to him stood a very dishevelled Alastor Moody, both of his eyes fixed on Arundel.


	3. Chapter 3

3- The Necrotic Crown

"So good of Tom to point us to the right room," Albus Dumbledore hovered on the threshold, clearly waiting to be invited in. Alastor Moody sneered and pushed past him, his electric blue false eye swelling quickly round in it's socket, searching, ever searching for things that could attack. He searched across her body, into the potions ingredients, the chair that Snape had just left and then the eye came to a stop as it looked directly at her. He let out a low grumble, "You're a walking violation of so many magical treaties," he told her. "The bag on your waist isn't exactly legal is it? You've really gone to town on it's protections too, haven't you girl?"

"Come now Alistor, we are not here to arrest the poor girl," Dumbledore finally entered the room and he crossed to her fire and sat in Severus empty seat.

"I'd be doing everybody a favour if I did," he scowled.

"You'd be doing a lot of people a favour, Moody, if you stopped treating me as the enemy. Do you know how much trouble you could have saved if you had just purchased the Grant's Artifact like I asked you to?"

"Don't try and pin your stupidity on me girl," Moody huffed. "Why on Earth would I try and buy something cursed from somebody like you?"

"A chance to end a society of dark wizards, a victory handed to you and the Aura's on a gold leaf plate," Arun sneered spreading her hand as if she were holding one. "But you were far too proud to see it."

Dumbledore seemed to be enjoying the show, but now he held up a hand and sighed, "What is done is done. Heavy handed though she is, Alistor, I'm sure we can agree that in destroying those Artifacts Miss Granville did a great service to the Wizarding community and dealt a blow right in the heart of a society that could have become very problematic."

"Problematic?" Moody growled, his arms crossed as he shifted his weight on his prosthetic leg.

"Forgive me, _Gentlemen," _Arundel cut in. "Why are you here?"

"An excellent question miss Granville," Albus Dumbledore told her. "You know why I am here, however I invited Alistor along because I think he could use your help."

"My help?" Arun echoed, her eyes narrowing.

"Help's a strong word," Moody muttered.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "Who would like tea?"

Arundel shrugged her assent and Moody settled into the second chair, leaving only Arun standing. The Hogwarts School headmaster flicked his wand and conjured a tea set then floated the tea over to them as if they were his guests and this was his room. Arun sipped, feeling uneasy, as she waited for them to tell her what they wanted.

"That's better," Dumbledore sighed, "I often find that a cup of tea is the very thing that's needed to liven one's spirits."

"Yes," Arun told him flatly. "Just what we need," she put the cup down and raised an eyebrow. "Ask away Dumbledore."

"Very well, tell me about Albania."

Arun spread her hands wide and pulled an I-don't-know face.

"The prison break girl," Moody pressed.

"You think I know who did it?"

Dumbledore gave her a very serious look, "That prison contained some very unsafe witches and wizards."

Arun hooked her hands on her hips, "And?"

"Who helped you with the Grants Artifacts?" Dumbledore asked.

"Apart from you and Severus?" Arun laughed.

"Lupin has given me his report."

"Then you know, don't you."

"Fenrir Greyback is a murderer, he's a psychopath who uses his bloodcurse as an excuse to mame and torture inoncent people," Moody barked. "If I ever catch that bastard i'll-"

"As are you," Arun shot back. "Don't pretend you hate what you do Moody, you love to fight, to curse and hex and hunt men for sport. You're the same as he is, you just have the Law as an excuse."

"I don't attack children."

"You would if they had the dark mark burning on their arm," Arun hit her forearm with her other hand.

Again Dumbledore held up his hand and he shot Arun a warning look. "Fenrir is not the kind of person who would do something for free Arun. If you were involved in this prison break-"

"I wasn't, I don't know who was. We went from Thebes back to Bristol."

"Bristol?" Moody's eye did a little dance of happiness and Arun hoped to Merlin that Fenrir had left the area.

"If you were involved, and you spoke out about it now, we could help you- We can offer you protection Arun, a new life away from any remaining Death Eaters who may be forcing your hand. You know about the Order of the Phoenix, you know what we can offer."

"You also came here to apologize, Dumbledore," Arun reminded him, "For cursing my family name and wishing our lineage dead. The Gaunt family tree is a big one, that's a lot of people you wish to eradicate."

"I spoke in anger," Albus told her, he had the decency to look embarrassed at least. "I do occasionally make mistakes."

"Good, well if that's all-" Arun cleared her throat, waved a hand and the door opened on it's own accord.

"Not done," Alistor told her. He stood, crossed to the door and closed it again. "I suppose it's my turn."

Arun pouted, turned and sank onto her bed, looking across the room with trepidation to Mad Eye Moody. "Call it a consultancy, my time is not cheap."

"Moody is trying to explain, Miss Granville, that the ministry have recovered a number of items in the New Forest that are specifically for the use of muggle baiting, however one object is far more potently cursed than the others and this item has been sucking the life force out of Muggles and wizards who come into contact with it. Five people have died, the effects are horrific."

"Is the famous Albus Dumbledore not able to solve it himself?"

"Arundel, I can't hope to puzzle out every dark object the ministry finds, I have no idea what that artefact is doing but it's not putting my staff or students at risk of harm so I must trust the ministry to do its job."

"I'm not a cursebreaker any more," Arun reminded him. "I haven't worked for Gringots for a while now."

"You do, if you want to. I've asked them for your Job back Granville-" he added as if it were not obvious, "You started this morning as an independent contractor and if you help Moody break the curse there will be a monetary reward paid to you by Gringots, who have asked if they can have the item once the curse is lifted. If you need it, you may have access to the Hogwarts library, it still has the most complete known works of literary scholars in the UK and I expect you will enjoy the social call, besides, there are a number of students who would appreciate additional tuition for their NEWTS," he studied her over his half-moon glasses with amusement as she seathed with resentment, the last time she had been at Hogwarts Dumbledore had sacked her and told her never to come back. Moody looked pleased, always one to enjoy the torment of a suspected agent of the Dark Lord and with both eyes fixed unwaveringly on her he gave a lopsided smile and stood up.

"I'll be in contact, staying here are you?"

"Only for a week more, and maybe not even that long."

He sniffed, "Right you are. I'll find you, I have a nose for it." he stood up and looked to Dumbledore who was still seated, his eyes raised in thought.

"You haven't told her what it is, Alistor."

"_If_ she agrees to help I'll show her, we haven't been able to move it."

Both men turned to look to Arundel who considered telling them to sod off with an internal relish but her curiosity getting the better of her and she did rather want to see this cursed object that was giving the aura's so much of a hard time. Maybe, if she did this job, it would improve relations with that side too, quash some of those rumors about her, make it easier to walk the knife's edge.

"There are plenty of other curse breakers in Gringotts," she protested, leaving the 'why me' unspoken.

"None who possess your knowledge of the dark arts."

"There are plenty who do possess my knowledge though, Dumbledore, you being one of them."

"I doubt I am as well versed as you in many awful things," He retorted with mild annoyance, she knew he didn't like her and found talking to her to be exhausting, she had to admit that she was impressed at how controlled he was being. "No, Arun, the last three cursebreakers died trying."

"Ah, so you came to me because, well, if I do too that's one problem sorted. Thanks."

"My pleasure," Moody growled with a smile. At least he was honest about what he thought.

"So, do we have your agreement?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'll think about it," Arun told him, never one for making her decisions quickly. "I'll post you an owl Moody."

"Splendid," Dumbledore rocked to his feet and pointed to her fire, "Could we use your flu?"

"Go ahead," she said and watched as the two men climbed into her fireplace and left for Hogwarts.

Seconds later she used the flue herself and her head appeared in the Malfoy fireplace in the drawing room where a wide eyed houself jumped in shock. "Get your masters," she commanded and the elf squealed and disappeared with a pop, leaving Arun to study the wingback chairs, polished floors and ornate stone fireplace. Malfoy Manor still remained one of her favourite places. Moments later footsteps echoed in the corridor, the door opened and Lucius swept into the room. He didn't seem too pleased.

"So you _are_ back?" he drawled and crouched by the fire to study her. "Severus was beside himself when you left, he was sure you were going to die," He pouted, "D'you ever think of anybody other than yourself?"

"I've spoken to him."

That took Lucius by surprise, "Oh?" he sniffed, "good." He glanced over his shoulder and leaned in closer, as if he were conspiring, "Cissy is out with Draco, we got him his first broomstick and he's been flying it around the house bumping into things, the boys got no coordination. Are you back in England for a while?"

"Potentially, I'm at the Leaky Cauldron."

Lucius recoiled, "Good god, why?"

"It's easy, it's cheap."

"Arun, you are richer than midus, cheap, what's wrong with you?"

"I needed some down time after the business with the Americans but I wasn't sure where to settle."

Lucius chuckled, "You could always go and stay with your parents," he told her rather pointedly and she shuddered. "I have a copy of your mother's new book. Quite frankly Arun, I'm not sure what to make of it."

"I never know what to think about her work Lucius," she laughed but she knew if she let him Lucius would want to discuss it with her for hours so she changed the point without drawing breath. "I had a visit from Mad Eye Moody and Dumbledore today."

Lucius smoothed his long white hair from his face and settled more comfortably on the floor, "I'm sorry to hear it," he said, but his eyes were glinting with interest.

"They want me to try and break a curse, Dumbledore went to the Goblins and asked them to give me a job again, and Moody has some kind of artefact in the New Forest that's sucking the life force from people."

"That Dumbledore is such a menace, I've never known somebody so meddlesome. Who does he think he is acting as a consultant for the Aura's and throwing his weight around with the Goblins."

"I can't work out why though Lucius. Why is Dumbledore so intent on meddling with my business?"

"Does he suspect how close you were to the Dark Lord?"

"I'm sure of it, but if he wanted to accuse me of being his agent he would have to put me on trial and that's never happened has it? I've never been hauled up in front of the Wisegamont because everything I did was done in the open. I'm an arms dealer, a potion maker, a tomb raider, I didn't pick sides, I took payment for services. Though that's enough to make me morally despised, it's not enough to condemn me to Azkaban. Not that Azkaban would hold me," she bragged.

"Practicing that speech for Dumbledore, are you?"

Arun pulled a face and puffed her cheeks, "Do you know anything about this artefact in the New Forest?"

Malfoy shook his head, "Tell me more about it?"

"Somebody baiting muggles, leaving bits of rubbish around that curse them, but there was something else left along with the rubbish that is much more ancient and powerful, that sucks the life force from those who touch it."

"And Mad Eye wants you to what? Destroy it or track down the Dark Wizard who put it there?"

"Destroy it, I wouldn't go tracking down anybody Lucius and if I had any idea who might have done such a _terrible_ thing, I'd keep very quiet about it, as you well know."

"It doesn't hurt to ingratiate yourself with the Ministry Arun, if He ever returns those connections will be supportive to Him. I've said it to many of my friends and i'll say it to you too, don't dismiss the post."

Arun hummed her assent.

"Come and stay with us, the idea of you being in that disgusting muggle loving hovel-" he shuddered. "I know you won't take our hospitality for more than a day or two but seriously, let us look after you for a little while and help you get yourself settled."

"I-" Arun bit her lip, "Thank you," she said, "I have a few things to do here and then I'll head over."

"Splendid, I'll get the elf to make us something tasty for tonight. Duck confit?"

Arun smiled, "lovely, I'll see you around seven."

"Good, we can discuss your mother's book," when Lucius smiled at her it was clear he knew how little she wanted to.

Head out of the fireplace she looked over to the Everwarm potion, it would only take an hour to make, so she borrowed a cauldron from Tom and brewed it in his kitchen, he was more than happy when it was done and bottled, then she left for the bank and spoke to the Goblins who were thrilled that she was going to work for them again. A goblin called Griphook was her minder, and she negotiated a pro bono contract, as she still had other lines of work open to her and didn't want those contracts passing to the bank. The Goblin gave her a list of names, places and cursed items to procure once the business with the Aura's was complete. He waved her away with long spindly fingers and a sharks smile, as if he knew for all of her protesting that she would one day end up working back for him again. Seven PM came round quickly and Arun packed her bag and stood in the fire stating Malfoy Manner in a loud commanding voice.

Narcissa met her this time, with her son Draco on her hip. "Darling," she sighed and drew Arun into a quick hug. "I'm sorry I wasn't in when you called earlier. This little one is learning to fly."

"He's getting so big," Arun said what she thought she should say and Narcissa laughed and put him down on the floor.

"Yes, and hungry, and rather demanding, I'd have the house elf look after him all the time but I fear the influence the lesser creatures might have on him." She sighed, and Arun thought that was rather an entitled view, if not an unexpected one. Baby Draco was crawling away from her towards the drawing room. "Dobby keep an eye on the baby," Narcissa shouted at nothing and then she turned and walked away with Arun following her. "Lucius said you spoke to Severus?"

"More like shouted."

Narcissa's shoulders sagged, "Honestly," she grumbled. "The two of you are such hard work. Severus is such a wonderful man and you-" she stopped talking before she said something she would regret.

"I know."

"Well, you must tell us about Egypt," she changed tack quickly to avoid embarrassment. "Do you want to wash up before dinner? I'll show you up to your room." Narcissa swept away from her before Arun could say anything to make the situation more awkward. She pointed to a door off a large bedroom with a huge window looking down over sculpted lawns dotted here and there with burning torches marking the edges of the different gardens in the darkness. The bed was a four poster with black hangings edged in silver showing stags running and a large obsidian mirror spanned the only free wall that didn't have a fireplace, bed or window. To one side of this was the bathroom door, the other a closet for belongings. Narcissa watched her with a slight smile, "It's lovely to have you stay Aurndel."

"The room is beautiful."

"It was decorated by Lucius' mother, she always said she liked the way the moonlight filled the room." she glanced up at the window and smiled, "I'll get the elf to ring the dinner gong in about an hour Arun." Narcissa swept from the room, and Arun looked up at the window, in the absence of Narcissa it was bitter quiet and the stone walls seemed to suck the warmth from her bones. She turned and with a wave of her hand lit the fire, clicked her fingers and the candelabra and candles lit and she turned to look at her reflection. Her dark eyes were shining, her skin flickering with orange, the light made her look gaunt, like Bellatrix after the Dark Lord fell. She pushed her long black hair behind her back and unbuttoned her dress letting it fall to her feet. She studied herself critically, the network of scars on her body from jinxes and curses. The slight indents of her ribs, the bumps of her hips and the freckles on her skin. She was, in her opinion, too young for the life she had lived. With a frown she turned and went into the bathroom, which contained a copper bath on claw feet, and a serpent's head tap which gushed fragrant warm water when she turned it on. Moments later she was relaxing into the warm water, watching the candles flickering. Life was better now the Dark Lord was gone, that was the simple fact of the matter. And though some of the Death Eaters had tried to find out where he had gone, torturing that Aura family the Longbottoms until they went insane, and though many of the order had turned on their friends and given names, those who remained free from Azkaban were able to get on with their lives quite happily, albet in the shadows, and it was better. Snape, spy or not, was still in Dumbledore's employment and the old fool had vouched for him, which was enough for the community to keep their suspicions to themselves. Lucius was as he had always been, paying for his freedom, but his ultimate and unwavering belief in Snape had helped the others to accept that he may well still be loyal to the Dark Lord. Narcissa showed how relieved she was every day, Arun remembered when she found out she was pregnant and the conversation they had. "We're in favour now, but it won't always be that way and what will stop him from using our child against us. I can't bring a child into-"

"He knows you are pregnant, Cissy, you told your sister."

And that was the end of any descusions about abortion. Narcissa had told Bellatrix before she told her own husband and so the Dark Lord had known about the pregnancy before Lucius. Narcissa had no choice but to proudly carry baby Draco for nine months as if he were an emblem of all that the new regime could provide. Lucius presented the child to their master as if he were a gift and the first hand to touch baby Draco after his parents was the Dark Lord himself but they had been terrified, and rightly so. Then the Dark Lord fell, and Draco's birth ceased to be the umbilical cord that would hang his parents. They started to see him as less of a threat and more of a joy. Narcissa was devoted to the child, even if she wasn't what one would call a natural mother, Lucius just found him funny but the love was clearly there. He would be in the same year as Harry Potter, Arundel mused, wondering if she would survive to see the day when the Boy Who Lived re-entered the magical community.

Harry Potter, the son of Lily Evans and James Potter. If he was anything like his father he was in for a tough time from Snape she thought as her head sank under the bubbles. Thinking about Lily made her angry, she tried to understand what Snape saw in her but she just tied herself in knots thinking about it. He'd explained it to her, the shame he felt for her death, the betrayal of her memory, the disgust he had for himself had turned her into a martyrdom that pervaded every part of his life and made him an impossibility to live with. He was a widow to her memory, and though he tried to be with Arun, she knew that she would never replace Lily as Snape's motivating factor. She'd taken a sacred oath to secrecy about his relationship with Lily and the fact that he really did work for the Order of the Phoenix, but to her it wasn't a betrayal of his friends, not now the Dark Lord was dead and all his followers were scattered.

At dinner Abraxas Malfoy had come over from a smaller property he lived in with his two dogs on the edge of the Malfoy estate and he seated himself at the head of the table. His spectacles wobbled on his nose as he breathed, his hair was slicked and cut to his chin and his robes were of the finest quality. "Arun," he called as she entered the dining room, rising from his seat as she approached. He held out his hand, which she took, and he kissed her knuckles whilst keeping direct eye contact. "How are you, how is the family?"

"All in good health, Mr Malfoy."

"Abraxas, dear girl, please. I can't have Thea's child calling me so formally, Narcissa said you were staying so I thought I'd come and say hello. I try and leave my son alone to forge his own path these days," he laughed, and cast an eye over at Lucius who raised an eyebrow to show he profoundly disagreed. "The boys a moderate, mixing with all that riff raff at the ministry, but we keep our name intact, intact I say," he grumbled, dropped her hand and moved to pull out her chair for her. "Thea sent me an advanced copy of her book Arun, I assured her I would go and pay her a visit to discuss it. I do love to converse with your mother, a fine wit she has. Very fine, and a fine brain for breading too." Aurn thought that was a little disingenuous considering that many of her mother's family line were violent and insane owing to the amount of inbreeding in her lineage. Abraxas sat back in his chair and studied the plates set out in front of him. "Lucius said you were courting that mudblood Snape?"

"He's proven himself worthy has he not? His mother was a Prince."

"His father was a Snape, a muggle."

"Tom Riddle's father was a Riddle," Arun said pointedly, "My own mother advocates for breeding outside of the pure lines to keep them healthy, and in both cases Riddle and Snape, they are fine wizards."

"Think how fine they would be if they didn't have the taint of bad blood, and your mother doesn't go so far as to suggest we sully ourselves with mudbloods, she calls for breading with foregn pure lines." Abraxas sighed he was enjoying himself. "Maybe, if you marry him he should take the name Granville, Arundel Snape sounds painfully common. Our own Dark Lord changed his name to Voldemort did he not? and a good idea too."

Arun caught Lucius' eye and frowned, he was biting his lip to stop himself laughing.

"Wine, Abraxas?" Narcissa asked. "We're having duck so i've a fine bottle of Red," as she spoke the wine appeared on the table, along with olives, vinaigrette dip and toasted strips of ciabatta bread.

"'Fine' you say? What is a fine wine these days, some new fancy nettle thing?"

Narcissa picked it up and passed it to him. He pushed his spectacles up his nose and peared at the bottle, "Oh," he laughed. "It's one of mine. A Superior Red from a vintage year, good choice Narcissa, very good." he opened the bottle and poured it for the table, sending it round with his wand and they toasted to the memory of the Dark Lord and then to Arun's mother and then to the Malfoy and the Granville families respectively, each time filling their glass up again. As soon as the olives were finished the main course appeared on their plates. Duck confit with green veg and mashed potatoes in a rich red wine sauce. Arundel ate very well indeed, and listened with growing amusement at how Abraxas spoke to his son like he was the butt of all jokes. He childed him for his eager scampering to gain favour with the elite on the Ministry, advised him to focus on his charitable work and "Influence politics as a public figure my son, Nobody can touch you if they look to you for support and charity. As I told Riddle in his youth: make people need you, Tom. Make them look to you for kindness and direction and you will never be taken from power. Your mother, Arun, understood it well enough in those early days, she gave us the form, the venue, the connections-"

Lucius looked mildly surprised, perhaps he hadn't realised the role his parents had played in shaping the Dark Lords rise to power. All Arun's generation had joined a movement already established and gaining in power and populartiy, but her parents generation were the ones who forged it. Thea Gaunt, Abrexus Malfoy were two pure blood well standing magicians who had the connections a young Voldemort needed to establish himself a following. Hardly any from Arun's generation even knew his true name, but her parents' generation were the shady politicians who never appeared to lift a finger, who never appeared to be involved, but well timed, well placed conversations with an old chum from school would spark revolutions.

"By the time your generation came out of school, we were practically retired from it, leave the fighting to the young blood." Abrexas laughed as he chewed, "But my son," his eyes flicked to Lucius who held his father's eye with mild displeasure across his features, "Always one to show off, always one to want to prove he is better than everybody else. Don't know why, boys a Malfoy that name carried weight in my day. If he hadn't been so keen to fight for Voldemort and did as I suggested and support financially in the background with quiet dignity, our name would still have weight too, he's got a lot of damage to control now. The imperius curse-" he shook his head. Lucius had stopped eating and Narcissa was looking between them with alarm. "As if my son wouldn't be able to fight that."

"I had to say something, it was the only believable thing that stopped me from neading to condem my friends. The only thing that explained the amount of unforgivable curses on my wand too..."

"You should never have been involved to that degree. Narcissa on the other hand, Lucius, you really should take a lesson from your wife."

Arun looked across to Narcissa who was very busy eating and avoiding both her husband and her father in law's eye.

"I learn from her every day father," Lucius said mildly. "But I fail to see what you mean."

"Narcissa, unlike her sister who was quite the obsessive little zealot, planned every interaction she had with the Dark Lord so that he would never see her as somebody to be asked to fight, though a more accomplished witch and potion maker I have never come across. I watched her temper him when he was furious, council him when he was lost, and yet never become important enough to be relied on. I must say, she impressed me."

"Thank you Abraxas," Narcissa's voice had a tone of finality, "Pudding?"

"Very good, yes pudding."

The main course disappeared and the puddings appeared, Abraxas fell silent for a moment as he devoured a sticky toffee tart and Lucius took the opportunity to change the subject. "Have you seen Draco's broomstick father? He's getting rather good at it."

"The little git chased my dog around this morning, he frightened the peacocks too," he chuckled as he stabbed at his pudding "I have half a mind to build him a quidditch pitch on my front lawn. Who else has a child Draco's age?"

"Crabbe and Goil do, I think the Parkinson's had a girl around the same time."

"That makes two a side, hardly enough for a team."

"Zabini had a son didn't she?" Lucius mentioned but Narcissa pouted.

"I'm not inviting that arrogant woman to my home."

"Theo's over quite a bit. I enjoy seeing old Nott when he brings him, but he's far too old to be a father and all on his own too, he's still grieving for his wife you know," Abraxas tipped the last of his wine into his mouth and dabbed the corners with a napkin. "What about Bulstrodes child?"

"That's scraping the barrel, her mother is a muggle," Narcissa pointed out.

"Bulstrodes a good lineage though, breed her back in."

Arun couldn't help but wonder at how detached and frankly sickening it was to hear them plan a quidditch team for a toddler based on blood purity. "What about the Flints?" she said.

"Oh, yes!" Narcissa laughed, "Quite forgot about them, son's called Marcus he's a little older than Draco."

"The family remained rather impartial in the war if I remember correctly," Lucius warned her. "They may not wish to come here."

"Nonsense," Abraxas childed his son. "They will come, this is Quidditch not a recruitment day for the Dark Lord."

This conversation wound on for what felt like an age, columinating in Abraxas drawing up plans for a miniature quidditch pitch and Narcissa orally composing a letter to the families of the children, including the Zabini 'woman'. Lucius remained for the most part silent, keeping his amused judgements to himself and occasionally looking over at Arun as if sharing a private joke with her.

"You need to hurry up and have a child Arundel," Abraxas told her. "A little one for Draco to play with, maybe marry later on- with your looks and the Gaunt and Granville heritage, If only I'd had more son's ahy?"

"If only," Arun raised a glass to him.

"Imagine a Malfoy being able to speak Parseltongue. That would be quite something wouldn't it?" He laughed. "By Merlin that would be something! Your mother told me where the tree branched between her line and the Gaunts who lost their fortunes- you had Marcus, Merrin and Thebus, right? And Thebus' older brother Hector had Marvolo who had Merrop."

"That's right."

"When did your lot move abroad?"

"Thebus went to Albania, but my grandfather Marcus came back to England at the turn of the century, just after that muggle world war. It was sad to see what happened to the other side of the family, I think that forms part of my mothers motivations, she's terrified of the idea that our bloodlines could become so corrupted."

"The Malfoys have always been careful, we marry outside of the twenty-eight as long as we can trace the families back a few generations, or we look overseas which has been profitable. There's always a few stains on the carpet, it can't be avoided. Granville was a good choice on your mothers part."

As if love didn't even come into it where blood and breading were concerned, but Arun knew for a fact that Abraxas' wife had not been in the twenty eight, and there was some debate over her grandmother being a squib or a muggle that was hushed up by the family. He considered the match between Narcissa and Lucius to be fantastic, a meeting of Black and Malfoy but that had never been Lucius' intention, he loved his wife through and through and she thought he was fantastic.

Abraxas finally left them at around one in the morning, shouting for his two dogs, scottish deer hounds he had named Henry and Pete to follow from their position by the fire.

"Henry and Pete?" Arun asked as they watched him stagger down the sloping lawns at the front of the manor.

"He thought it made them sound terribly serious," Narcissa giggled.

"Well I'm more than a little glad that he's gone," Lucius said from the table, "sorry you had to sit through that Arundel."

"Oh, don't worry _Lucy_, it explains why you are the way you are," she smiled and ducked as he bewitched his napkin to fly across the room to slap her.

"Nightcap or bed?" Narcissa asked and in union both Lucius and Arun chorised "Nightcap."


End file.
